Tell
by MandyQ
Summary: From the morning after his rescue from Jabba 'til the evening after the battle of Endor Han Solo is haunted by a piece of advice from his old buddy Lando. "If you love her, you've got to tell her." How to tell Leia...? Complete. Please read and review.
1. Morning: The Millennium Falcon

DISCLAIMER: STAR WARS belongs mostly to George Lucas; at least the bits that make money. But I have made no money, nor do I even want to make any money on this story. I mean no infringement of anybody's stellar copyrights and I can only hope that no one sends any Fetts after me.

A/N: Fact checked within an inch of my life- but I might have missed something. Let me know if you find errors- as I am new to this fandom and more than willing to fix things.

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Han found Lando just where he thought he would: sitting in the Captain's chair and piloting the _Falcon_ toward the rebel fleet, which was just beginning to be visible in the distance. It had been a long night, but Han had slept well- better than he could remember ever having slept as a matter of fact. He'd found upon waking that his eyesight had been near fully restored to him and had wanted nothing more than to pilot his own ship the rest of the way to their destination. Sitting in the cockpit would give him some measure of control; a feeling that had been altogether gone from him for the better part of the last year. It wasn't as though he had been aware of his oblivion while it had him overcome, but knowing of it now made the helplessness just a little more than he could bear. Flying his own ship would do a lot toward making him feel like himself again.

"Hey there!" Lando greeted him as he slid into the co pilot's seat and began poking at the controls.

"Hello yourself," Han said back to him without looking up.

"You're looking well rested," his friend said to him. "You sleep well?" he asked.

"Best ever," Han answered. He was tempted not to say any more on the subject, but his inherent need to brag took over at that moment and he continued. "After all," he sighed, trying to sound nonchalant about the whole thing, "I spent the night in the arms of a princess," he declared.

"Leia," Lando observed. Han grinned and nodded his head, reclining a little against the seat, his hands no longer on the controls. "Please," Lando implored, "do not spare me the details." Han shook his head and chuckled.

"Not a chance," he said back.

"Han," Lando groaned back at him, "you were always more than willing to kiss and tell," he reminded.

"Nope," Han replied, "not this time."

"Come on," Lando urged, "just between you and me. Did you kiss?"

"Can't you tell?" Han snarked back. Lando chuckled at that.

"You old pirate," he joked. "You've still got it, don't you?"

"Ah," Han shrugged his shoulders and raised his eyebrows at Lando. "It's not like that," he said, "this is different."

"Sure it is," Lando allowed. Han thought at first that Lando was being facetious. But then his friend added a matter-of-fact, "You're smitten," to the end of his statement. Han sat up straighter in his chair; was that a jab?

"And why shouldn't I be?" he asked in all seriousness. So what if he was smitten? So what if he was head over heels?

"I'm not saying you shouldn't," Lando defended. "Leia's a hell of a girl," he said. "Truth be told, if you were anybody else I'd have made a play for her myself by now." Han frowned at his old friend.

"But seeing as we're such good friends…" Han posed sarcastically.

"Good friends be damned," Lando shot back, "I just don't want to be on the wrong side of Chewbacca ever again." Han laughed out loud at that. He wondered just when Lando had run afoul of Chewie, but any person would be wise to avoid raising the ire of a Wookiee if they could help it.

"Because when a Wookiee disarms a man…" Han added. The both of them laughed out loud at that. It was an old joke with them, but one that had its roots in reality. The truth was, when someone was disarmed by a Wookiee his arms were literally removed from the rest of him. No, better off never to let that happen. And Lando's insight had been appropriate; Han would have had his arms ripped off had he thought to trifle with Leia. She was a class above the kind of women they used to pass around between them. Han had a feeling that Lando knew that fact as well as he did. Lando's having ceded his custom-fitted captain's quarters to her had been hint enough that he had some respect for Leia, but his having refrained from making romantic overtures in her direction might very well have come from a fear of having his appendages removed by force and without benefit of anesthesia.

"Exactly," Lando agreed. "That and the fact that she's smitten with you right back," he added. Han felt a goofy grin cross his face that he had no control over as he nodded in response to his friend's comment. Yes, there was that.

"She is," he affirmed, grinning wider at the thought. No thought made him happier than that one. "I don't know what good deeds I might have done to have ended up with a girl so fantastic," Han shared, "but I'm going to sit back and be happy about it."

"You think you've 'ended up'?" Lando asked, flipping on the auto pilot and turning to look Han in the eye. Clearly he got the implication.

"Yeah," Han allowed. "I think I have. I think I'm done. I can't think of any possible way for any other woman in the galaxy to even begin to measure up to Leia," he admitted. "She's something special."

"Yeah she is," Lando affirmed, "She said she loved you," he reminded Han. "Said it loud," he added, "and in front of witnesses." Han nodded again, grinning even wider at the memory of her impassioned outburst. It was his most powerful memory. "And now," Lando said, "you've had the chance to say it back." Han frowned suddenly. He hadn't really thought about that. Lando frowned back at him. "Tell me you said it?" he implored.

"No," Han admitted. "We didn't really talk," he shared. Lando quirked his lip and Han could tell immediately what he was thinking. "We fell asleep." He clarified. The truth was, he had wanted to make love to her, but hadn't been able to bring himself to after learning of the abuse that she'd suffered while in Jabba's custody. They'd just held each other and gone to sleep, and when he'd woken this morning he had snuck away so as not to wake her.

"Han," Lando chided him, "if you love her, you've got to tell her."

"What for?" Han challenged. He did love her; he was as sure of that as he had ever been of anything. But he wasn't the kind of guy who went around with his heart on his sleeve. And besides, Leia was a sensitive and perceptive woman; surely she would have been able to discern his feelings. "Leia knows how I feel about her," he asserted, shaking off the notion that perhaps Lando had a point.

"You sure about that?" Lando asked. Han leaned forward in his seat and frowned again.

"Sure I'm sure," he said back. But as soon as he said it, he realized he wasn't sure. Still- he'd rather show her than tell her. Words were just words; actions spoke much louder as far as he was concerned.

"How?" Lando rebutted. "How does she know?"

"By the way I treat her," Han shot back. "I'm nice to her," he explained. "She knows," he reiterated.

"You've still got to say it," Lando insisted. Han shook his head

"Look, Lando," Han sniped at him. "I am not exactly all that comfortable discussing my feelings with Leia," he shared, his face contorting into a sneer at the word 'feelings'. "And I have no idea why in the hell I'm discussing it with you," he punctuated. Lando shrugged his shoulders.

"Because you don't want to screw this up," Lando informed him. Han nodded. That was true enough. He'd never really felt this way about a woman before; and add to that the fact that she was a bona fide princess and a leader of the Rebel Alliance. This woman was more than just a little bit out of his league and, as much as it made him ever so slightly uncomfortable to be discussing his feelings toward her with Lando, he was grateful to have a second opinion as to just how to handle having fallen for such a paragon. He most certainly did not want, as Lando had so eloquently phrased it, to 'screw this up'.

"You've got that right," he affirmed, leaning against the back of the seat again.

"So listen to what I'm telling you," Lando instructed, "you've got to say it. She needs to hear you say it."

"Again I say 'how come'?" Han replied. Lando swiveled his chair to look Han in the eye.

"Look at it this way," he began, shaking his head. "Leia said that she loved you… and what did you say back?" he asked rhetorically. "You said, 'I know'," he reminded Han.

"I did know," Han assured him.

"And how did you know?" Lando asked him.

"By the way she treats me," he answered, echoing his previous assertion that she should know by his actions that he loved her.

"But she said it anyway, didn't she?" Lando asked. Han's eyes grew wide as his friend continued. "A woman's got to hear it out loud," he advised, "If you don't say it, eventually she's going to think that's because it isn't true- no matter how well you treat her. And she'll wind up leaving you for some jerk who will say it. Believe me," he finished, "a girl like that's not going to put up with not hearing those words for long; not after she told you first in front of all those people."

"Since when have you been such an expert on women?" Han asked, furrowing his brow as he considered Lando's words. He couldn't remember his buddy ever having a relationship with a woman that lasted longer than a weekend; how could he possibly know how to make a relationship work? He was also fairly certain that Lando had never so much as met a princess before, much less courted one- he was no particular expert on that, either.

"Catch enough of them on the rebound and you pick up a few things," Lando replied, a knowing grin on his face.

"Touché," Han answered. Perhaps Lando had a point. Maybe he had ought to tell Leia just how he felt about her. Problem was: Han Solo had always been a man of action. Words tended to desert him when it mattered and if he made a blunder of speech in trying to express himself to Leia it could cost him dearly. "But I don't know if she'd be too keen on hearing me spill my guts all over the place anyway," he inserted. "I mean…" He shrugged his shoulders again. "She fell for me without my saying anything," he offered. "Maybe she prefers the strong, silent type," he proposed. Lando laughed out loud again.

"You," he retorted, "silent?" He shook his head. "Don't make me laugh," he added through his increasing chuckles.

"You know what I mean," Han grumbled, rolling his eyes at Lando's laughter.

"I know what you mean," Lando allowed. "But I'm still right." Han slumped his shoulders and ran his fingers through his hair. Damn Lando for having wisdom. It's not like he hadn't thought about saying it. But when? When do you say something like that… something so life changing? Should he have said it that first morning in Cloud City- as he made love to her; would she not have thought that he meant that he loved her only in that moment? Should he have said it after she did- there at the precipice of what might have been death for him? How would she have taken that? Would she not have presumed that his sentiment was merely an echo precipitated by her own? Would she not have wondered if he had only said it as a comfort to her in what might have been his last moments; secure in the fact that his encasement in carbonite would offer him reprieve from having to live his words? Should he have said it last night- after she had come to his rescue at such great risk to herself? Would she have known him to be sincere then, or would she have figured any declaration in that moment to be one of thanks from an overwrought and overwhelmed man? Han shook his head as he crossed his arms over his chest. No; he couldn't have told her like that. Better he live up to loving her than fess up to it.

"Right about what?" Leia's voice interrupted his introspection, sounding in the cockpit before she had fully stepped inside. Han had to wonder just how much of their conversation she might have overheard. He could only hope that she'd been walking quickly enough not to have heard anything before the remark she'd responded to.

"Oh…" Han was trying to come up with some sort of plausible lie, but having no real luck in doing so.

"Morning, Leia," Lando greeted the new arrival.

"Good morning Lando," she said back, "Han," she added, patting him on his shoulder.

"We've had a wee bit of navigational difficulty," Lando answered, winking at Han, whose face clearly thanked him for the rescue. "Han thinks it's the nav computer, but I'm pretty sure it's just a sensor glitch."

"You should listen to him," Leia encouraged Han, setting her hand on his shoulder. "He's taken good care of your ship," she added. Han turned to look at her. She was beautiful. He had felt singularly blessed by the return of his eyesight this morning, allowing her sweet face and peacefully slumbering body to be the first sights his eyes had beheld in the better part of a year. He had only left her minutes ago; sound asleep in the bed they had shared overnight. How she was able to be so bright eyed and put together so quickly was one of the dozens of things about her that amazed him.

"I'm going to go and check on that nav computer," Lando said to them, frowning at Han as he stood from the pilot's seat. "Not that it's of much importance now," he added, "we're to Sullust already." He nodded at Leia as he passed by and then suddenly Han found himself quite alone with the princess.

He couldn't just spill it now. That would be crazy even for Han Solo. Besides, he could no more tell her for no reason at all than he could have when it might have meant something else entirely. Han took her Leia's hand from where it was on his shoulder and pulled it to his lips, kissing it before setting it back down where he had found it. "You see the fleet?" he asked her, pointing out the forward cockpit windows. "We're almost home."

Leia squeezed his shoulders. Wherever the Rebel Alliance was headquartered had been all the home she had left after the destruction of Alderaan. Han wanted to make her happy, and he hoped that seeing the fleet was enough to do so in the moment. "I do see it," she answered him. "You know those are Alderaanian gunships," she pointed at a cluster of corvettes that seemed to be buzzing about on circular maneuvers between ships of the otherwise stationary fleet. Han sighed at Leia's mention of her home world; it was a painful subject with her and one she rarely talked about. But the lilt in her voice when she said the word 'Alderaan' was enough to signal to him the pride that she still felt for her home and her people.

He did have to remember that he was in love with a princess; a real live royal sovereign, and he knew that she considered herself to be the leader of these displaced citizens of the world she had lost and the citizens looked to her for that leadership as well. This war was more personal for her than perhaps for any other among them; she had seen her whole planet blown up before her very eyes. For Han Solo, the war hadn't become personal until he'd fallen for her. And as sweet and touching as her references to Alderaan were, Han's brain was not at this moment fully equipped to handle such depth.

"I didn't know Alderaan built anything with guns on it," he joked in reply. Of course, he did know that a large percentage of the medium sized craft in the service of the Rebel Alliance were of Alderaanian origin; a gift to the Alliance from Leia's late father. Occasionally he enjoyed teasing her abstractly about her home planet and their pacifism as it related to their ability to make war, but jokes about a defenseless Alderaan didn't stay funny for long. It occurred to Han that he should find another angle from which to heckle her. "And you do know those much larger ones are Corellian battleships… the ones they're flying laps around?" he retorted, emphasis on the word 'larger'.

"Just keep in mind who's doing those laps," she smarted back, "and who it is sitting still and getting lapped."

"Are you trying, Princess," he began slowly, "to impugn the prowess of Corellian pilots?" Han placed his hands on the yoke in preparation for some feat of fancy aerial maneuvering that would make her squeal louder than tickling her until she apologized to him for ever having made such an assertion. But when she answered back with a hand on his shoulder and,

"Only in the cockpit," whispered very close to his face and punctuated with the tiniest of kisses on his earlobe he decided that he preferred hot breath on his neck to peals of laughter in his ears. Leia leaned in further and kissed his temple then, her lips lingering there just long enough for him to get the hint that she was flirting, before taking a step away from him and toward the door. "I wasn't aware that we were so close to Sullust," she said to him, her voice suddenly all business. "I should go get dressed," she added, "Admiral Ackbar and Mon Mothma and General Rieekan will want to meet with me."

"Of course, your highnessness ," he snarked back at her, sneering at the thought of the responsibilities that lay ahead. He had known since the battle of Yavin that Leia was among those in charge of the Rebellion, but something in him had let him forget for the duration of this brief voyage from Tatooine to Sullust that she would have obligations when they arrived.

Han hated that. As much as he appreciated Leia for her tactical brilliance and her stalwart resolve when in command he still really enjoyed the idea of having her all to himself. But he never would have her _all_ to himself; and he knew that. Fundamentally he knew that she would never be all his; maybe that was why it had been so hard for him to come to terms with falling in love with her. It was a hard thing to imagine: making a life with someone who would always have duty and honor and a vocation to leadership that would take her away again and again. But he had fallen in love with her and he wasn't about to run from that.

Han Solo was not a man who ran away from a challenge; even when that challenge was Princess Leia Organa. He loved her more than he wanted to, and he knew that she loved him just the same. And the truth was he would gladly sacrifice what time with her was necessary for her to continue the work she loved as long as what moments they were able to steal alone together remained as wonderful as the past twenty hours had been.

His life had been all but fully taken from him when he was captured, frozen, and turned over to Jabba the Hutt to be hung on the wall like some sporting trophy. And when she had come to rescue him she had given him back a life so much richer than the one he had left. He could hear her voice echoing in his mind over and over; Leia his savior having risked her life for his and identifying herself as 'someone who loves you'. Those had been the sweetest words he had ever heard in his life; sweeter even than her initial declaration of love for him, as that had been made in a most intense situation where her judgment might have been impaired by fear.

It was her second declaration more than the first that made him question and wonder just how to go about returning her sentiment. He wanted to say it like that; at a time and in a way that made those words the only thing that existed in the universe at that moment. But Leia had an uncanny habit for not staying still for long enough to let such a moment come. He'd just have to get over himself and tell her. "Leia," he called after her as she was halfway out the door. He turned his head from the controls just in time to see her turn back toward him. '_I love you' _his brain had begun, but something in her eyes frightened the words out of his mouth. He hesitated for a moment, drawing in a shaky breath. "I'll let you know when we prepare for docking," he finally said to her. Leia nodded once and smiled at him before turning again to leave the cockpit.

Han could feel his face screwing itself into a frown at his own cowardice. How hard could this be? He loved her and he should be able to tell her so. Damn Lando for his advice. Han shook his head as he corrected course toward the fleet.

He'd figure something out.


	2. Night: The Forest Moon

It was colder at night on the forest moon than Han might have imagined when the shuttle first put down. The sun was only beginning its nocturnal descent when they had landed; the air had been mild and the breezes warm. The team had managed to hide the shuttle presently upon arrival and make camp for the night just as the sunset had given way to total darkness. Chewbacca had taken the first watch; allowing Han some much needed shuteye after the journey to Endor from Sullust, but Han had insisted on taking the second watch himself.

It wasn't as though they had any intelligence that told him to be so vigilant but the fact was he was more than just a little bit uncomfortable leaving his sleeping team unguarded; even with Luke's assertion that some 'Jedi sense' would prickle him should danger approach. No; better safe than sorry. Han pulled his coat tighter around his shoulders as he made his way around the periphery of their campsite.

The starlight was dim beneath the heavy forest canopy, but Han was sure that he could just make out a figure standing on the far side of a fallen tree at the west edge of camp. He fingered his blaster, still in its holster at his side, as he quietly approached. The wind whipped up a little, rustling the trees and briefly parting the branches overhead just enough to let a moment's worth of starlight through the thicket. Han let go of his weapon. Even from behind and in this darkness, he knew who was there; it was Leia.

She was staring into the sky through an opening in the treetops, and she wasn't dressed to be out in the night air. She hadn't bothered with her overcoat or her tunic, she hadn't even pulled on her uniform blouse, instead she had left her tent in only her sleeveless camisole and trousers. And she hadn't brought a blaster along. Han thought to chastise her for going out at night unarmed, but there was something about her bearing that made him think better of it. He approached her quietly, studying her as he came nearer. They hadn't had time alone in days; in fact, they had barely spoken since departing for Endor. He wondered what she might be thinking, but at the same time he was almost sure that he knew. There was scarcely a meter between them when Han chose to stop walking. Leia certainly knew that he was there now, and yet she hadn't turned to face him.

Whatever was going on with her, he wasn't going to push. But still he couldn't just stand there without saying something. Han felt himself inhale sharply. Now was not the time to come out with '_I love you'_, even though that was his initial inclination.

"What are you doing up at this hour?" he asked. It was the obvious question, easy enough to start a conversation.

"I was about to ask you the same thing," she said back, still not turning to face him.

"It's my watch," he answered her, "your turn."

"I couldn't sleep," she admitted, shrugging her shoulders.

"Fair enough," Han allowed. After all, he had volunteered for this watch specifically because he had anticipated similar insomnia. "So which one is it?" he asked her, stepping closer. He was sure that she had been looking for the new Death Star in the heavens, and from her fixed gaze, he could guess that she had found it.

"It's right there," she answered immediately, pointing up into the sky at a dim and misshapen light directly overhead. Her back was still turned to him, he couldn't see her face and yet what was on her mind would have been obvious to him even if he were still blinded.

"We'll get it done," he told her. "We'll stop that thing before it has a chance to hurt anyone," he added. Leia nodded, wrapping her arms around herself for warmth. Han couldn't imagine the feelings Leia might be having as she looked upon the Empire's unfinished promise of slaughter. Her entire planet had been wiped out in one fell swoop by the first Death Star just minutes before they had met. He had very little connection left to his own home of Corellia, but he could imagine his own heartache were it to be gone forever. And Leia had loved Alderaan with all of her being; she still did. He had seen the sorrow behind her eyes at some of her most unguarded moments and he'd heard the tears in her voice when, without warning, a memory of her parents or her childhood home would be called in to a conversation.

"I know we will," she agreed, nodding her head, but never looking away from the cursed object in the sky above them. Her words were affirmative, but something in her tone made him less than convinced that she truly believed it. "I have faith in you," she said hesitating before adding, "General." Her tone was much more firm when she said that; Han started at the thought that her faith in him was greater than in the entire Rebel Fleet.

"I guess that makes one of us," Han half joked in reply. Leia shook her head.

"I mean it," she assured him, "I'm glad it's you."

"Thanks," he replied, unsure of what else to say. "I think I have no idea what I'm doing," he admitted, leaning against the fallen tree trunk and shaking his head. He'd had no doubts at all as to his ability to lead this offensive when it had been first offered to him. But he had never had a full squad under his command before. The initial pang of nerves had come when his team had assembled; so many young faces looking to him for leadership. And his self doubt had been eating away at him ever since. Now, on the eve of their offensive, with the mission already begun, there was nothing to do but to go forward, and Han had to admit that he was feeling a bit overwhelmed.

"You'll be fine," Leia told him. "You're a natural leader," she added, "the men look up to you. You wouldn't have been offered the assignment if anyone had thought that you couldn't handle it."

"Doesn't feel like that," he admitted. "You know I've never…" he sighed and squared his jaw. "I'm used to having to only look out for myself," he shared. "And suddenly now there's a whole squad." He shook his head. "Not to mention Chewie and Luke, my best friends, and…" he paused for a moment, unsure of what to say next. '_The woman I love__'_ was what wanted to come out, but he wasn't sure this was the moment. He'd been stewing over when and how to say that word to her and he just hadn't found the right time and place. Deciding that now was not the moment he finished his sentence with a quiet, "you."

"I can take care of myself," she assured him. Han nodded; truer words had never been spoken. If anyone was truly capable of looking after themselves it was Leia; she'd done so with great success for as long as he'd known her. Han stood back up and walked up close behind her.

"I know," he agreed, "but you shouldn't have to." He placed his hands on her bare shoulders and pulled her gently toward him. She tensed up instantly when his fingers made contact but then just as quickly relaxed, dropping her chin to her chest as she finally let go of her view of the Death Star. Her skin was soft beneath his touch and he began kneading at the knots he could feel in the muscles of her back and neck. "You should be someplace quiet," he whispered the fantasy in her ear as he continued to rub her shoulders. "You should spend every day of your life someplace pretty, surrounded by nice things and genteel people and with peace all around you."

It felt good to touch her. In the days they had spent aboard the flagship in preparation for the offensive they had found themselves quite unable to keep their hands off of each other. She had sneaked into his room the first night they'd been there and after that there had scarcely been an hour in which they hadn't found some moment to steal a caress. They'd secretly held hands beneath the conference table, locked themselves in empty offices, kissed passionately in stalled lifts, and quietly spent their nights together. But she hadn't touched him since their shuttle had left the flagship, and he hadn't touched her since hours before then. He wondered if their sudden physical estrangement had something to do with the unsettled feeling he'd been fighting since they had come to Endor.

"There's no place like that," she contended, her whisper of truth cancelling out his fantasy of peace and quiet, "not while the Empire is still in power."

"I know," Han allowed, moving his hands from her shoulders to her upper arms, rubbing softly in an effort to warm her chilled skin. He dared to lean in and kiss the top of her head.

Leia leaned her cheek against his hand as it rested on her shoulder. "Where have you been?" she asked him softly.

"Right here," he assured her, unsure of exactly what she was asking.

"You've been light years away," she told him, her head shaking slowly. Han nodded his head. He hadn't meant to be distant, but he could imagine where the idea had come from.

"I…" he struggled to find an answer to that. "I told you I don't know what I'm doing," he confessed. "The truth is…" he shrugged his shoulders and let his hands fall to his sides. "I don't even know what to call you." She turned around to face him.

"Leia," she informed him, picking up his hand and shaking it as though in introduction. Han smiled at her; leave it to Leia to brighten the mood. She was smiling. Despite his external trepidation he smiled too; she had that affect on him even in the darkest times.

"So I shouldn't call you 'sweetheart'?" Han asked her in jest, happy to keep the levity going for just another moment.

"If you want to," she allowed. Han believed her. This woman amazed him sometimes; she would let him call her sweetheart in front of the entire Military if that's what would make him happy. Of course, nothing was going to make him happy until they got off of this moss covered hell hole, mission accomplished and a good meal in their stomachs.

"You sure about that?" he asked. "You do still outrank me," he reminded her, "and everyone else calls you 'your highness' or 'Senator Organa'."

"I've never spent the night with any of the rest of them," Leia reminded him, still smiling.

"Yeah," Han sighed, taking both of her hands in his. "That." He sighed again and shrugged his shoulders. "I wasn't sure that was something we really wanted to advertize." They had, for all intents and purposes, been sneaking around for the duration of their time aboard the flagship and he wasn't at all convinced that their relationship was something Leia was willing to let the rest of the world in on. He'd accepted his General's commission with that in mind. The idea of the esteemed princess in a romance with a General was somehow more acceptable than the thought of her with a former smuggler; even if the two were one in the same.

"You're afraid the men won't respect you," she guessed, "if they think you got the assignment by being involved with me." Han shook his head.

"No," he replied quickly. "No, it's not that. It's the opposite, actually," he explained. "I'm afraid they might think less of you," he shared, "if they think you go around pinning General's bars on every guy who…." Han shrugged his shoulders, not knowing what the delicate term was to use just then. He was sure that he had a flummoxed look on his face as he considered the indelicacy of that comment. Leia, for her part, just chuckled. At that moment he was sure that he was off the hook; she wasn't going to make him come up with the proper term for whatever had transpired between them.

"You let me worry about that," she encouraged, squeezing his hands.

"And with my somewhat checkered past," he added, wanting to explain fully his recent hesitation toward her.

"Han," she cut him off, pulling him by his hands until he was pressed against her. "I'm not ashamed of you," she assured him. "We all came from somewhere," she said, "and you've earned this, Han." She squeezed his hands. "Promoting you wasn't my idea," Leia reminded him, "but you deserve it. You're going to be a great General. I know you," she added, "and I know that about you." Han smiled and gathered her into an embrace. She slipped her arms beneath his coat and rested her hands against the small of his back. Her hands felt cold through the fabric of his shirt, but he would be damned if he let on that it was even the least bit uncomfortable. Being this close to her was worth a little chill.

_'I love you'_ his mind thought, but he couldn't bring himself to say it; not when it might only mean 'thanks for the vote of confidence'. Suddenly his decision not to say it two minutes ago seemed the very wrong. But that moment had passed and he would just have to wait for the next one.

"I appreciate your saying so," he told her, "but again I'm going to say that I don't know what I'm doing. There are a lot of lives in my hands, Leia," he added. "I don't know if I'm really cut out for this."

"I think you are," she encouraged, burying her face in his chest. "And it does get easier."

"It does?" he asked, perching his chin on the top of her head.

"A little," she qualified. Han chuckled. Leia had never lied to him, and he appreciated her candor in that moment.

"Let me guess," He offered, "decisions come easier, but you still wind up awake at odd hours of the night staring out into space?" This time it was Leia who laughed softly.

"Something like that," she allowed.

_'I love you'_ Han could hear himself saying, but just then Leia tilted her face toward his and kissed him sweetly. Another moment had escaped him. It didn't matter, though, he knew he loved her and he was sure that she knew it too. Maybe saying it out loud wasn't that important; Han couldn't have cared less about saying anything to her in that moment, as they kissed under the stars on the eve of what might be the most important day they had spent together thus far.

"You may outrank me, Leia," he said to her, making a point to address her as she had instructed him to. "But," he continued, "This is still my mission. I think I'm about to order you into bed." Leia withdrew from his embrace and smirked at him.

"Will you be joining me?" she asked. Han shook his head.

"I think it might be seen as an abuse of power if I order you to go to bed with me," he joked with her. "And besides," he added, kissing her forehead, "it's still my watch."

"All right," she said to him. Leia stood on tip toes and kissed the side of his cheek before turning toward camp.

"I…" Han began as she brushed past him. _'LOVE YOU'_ his mind screamed, but she turned toward the sound of his voice and the moment his eyes fell on her face his words deserted him again. "Walk you to your tent," he offered, frowning to himself at his inability to just come out and say how he felt.

"I'd like that," Leia said back to him, reaching for his hand as she continued toward into camp.

"You really don't mind people finding out?" he asked, looking down at their clasped hands as they headed back into camp. They hadn't been so overt in front of any but their closest associates.

"No," Leia answered him, "I don't mind."

"Good," he half grumbled in response. _Because I'm head over heels in love with you and would shout it from the treetops if I could just get it to come out of my fool mouth!_ Han was beginning to become very frustrated with himself over his inability to just bloody tell her how he was feeling. He could say anything to her; they had no secrets from each other, but he was somehow unable to let those three important words out of his mouth. They walked quietly, hand in hand, until Leia stopped in front of her tent.

Leia had chosen to put her tent up at the edge of camp. Han was a little bit surprised that the others in the group hadn't closed ranks around the princess, but it also occurred to him that she may have waited until the others had committed to a location before pitching her own tent. Han smiled at the immaculately groomed patch of earth and canvas. Were a person not to know that she had been raised in the Royal house of Alderaan, it would be easy to mistake Leia for regular army. She had squared away this little patch of forest to regulation better than Han could have imagined possible, certainly better than he had done with his own campsite.

Leia seated herself on the canvas lip outside of the flap of her tent. Without letting go of Han, she pulled open the tent flap and scooted herself inside. He let her pull him down to sit just in the doorway of the tent. It was dark enough in the Endor woods, and here beneath the tent canvas it was pitch black. "Here," Leia said to him, reaching out to turn on a camp lantern near her pillow. Han smiled again. The inside of her tent was even more squared away than the site; had her camping blanket not been wrinkled and her pillow dimpled, the place would have looked as though no one had ever been inside of it. Leia scooted herself farther inside the narrow single-person structure and reached toward her feet to remove her boots.

"Let me," Han offered, placing his hands just above the ankles of her calf high boots. Leia smiled and nodded. Han pulled her boots off one and then the other setting them in the corner of the tent where he could tell Leia had intended them to spend the night. He noticed instantly that she hadn't bothered to put on a pair of socks before going out. "Your feet are cold," he said, pressing her toes between his palms to warm them as best he could. "You got a thermal heater in here?" he asked. Leia shook her head. Han snatched the end of her blanket from the far side of the tent and covered her feet with it, keeping his hands wrapped around her toes. "I could bring you the blanket from my tent," he offered. She shook her head.

"I'll be fine," she told him.

"Think you can sleep?" he asked. Leia nodded.

"I can try," she answered. She pulled the blanket off of her feet and then lay back with her head on her pillow. She unclasped the belt on her trousers and lifted herself up on her heels as she slid them over her hips. She was wearing plain white undershorts that matched her camisole. Han considered as he helped her pull her trousers from her ankles that she looked far more fetching in the underclothes than the military might have intended when they designed the things.

_'__I love you__'_ he thought, trying to keep his expression neutral as his brain thrilled at the sight of her bare legs. Han leaned in to the tent and kissed the inside of her knee before reaching for the camping blanket and covering her with it. Leia put out the lamp then, leaving them again in total darkness. '_I love you'_ rang in his brain again, maybe he could say it if he didn't have to look at her. No; he ached to see the look that would come to her eyes when he confessed his love to her. "Sweet dreams," he said to her instead. Han patted her ankles beneath the blanket and scooted himself back out of her little tent. He buttoned up her tent flap and stood up.

Han ran his fingers through his ruffled hair as he made his way quietly into the center of the camp. He had to fight the urge to stay in one place and stare at Leia's tent all night. She'd be okay; he knew that. She hadn't been lying when she had said that she didn't need taken care of, but that didn't make him any less inspired to take care of her. Han was still mentally kicking himself for not having said to her the one thing he most needed to.

But again, how could he say it now? How could he tell her he loved her here? How would it not sound like he was only saying so because their lives were in danger? But then again when were their lives not in danger of late? He couldn't just say it any old way, either. He had to find the right moment; and he had to say it just so. Han Solo sighed at himself.

Whenever the moment came, it wouldn't be tonight.


	3. Dawn: Bright Tree Village

The dawn was breaking somewhere in the distance, dappling the forest floor in patches with blue light filtered through the leafy canopy. How long had they been on this moon? Han stopped to consider the flashes of memory that made up the past two days.

They had landed, set up camp, bedded down. Risen with the sunrise, found storm troopers, lost Leia, been found by Ewoks, almost been eaten. Found Leia, heard stories, been made honorary Ewoks. Luke ran off, fight with Leia, made up with Leia, spent a night with Leia in a hammock in a hut in a tree. Rose with the sun again, recon, more Ewoks, found bunker, broke in, taken prisoner, firefight, colossal screwup….

Han Solo rolled his eyes and shook his fist at the darkness. He had really stepped in it this time. He had half a mind to blame Lando for his momentary stint into madness, but he knew that no amount of blame would save him from the repercussions of his asininity.

He had finally said it.

"I love you," he had heard his own voice before he was even aware of what he was saying. He was sure that the words had come out at half his normal speaking pace as he felt his mind and his tongue tripping over the sentiment. It had been all wrong.

From the moment Lando had insisted, "If you love her, you've got to tell her," Han had struggled with himself over how to go about doing just that. He couldn't say it, he'd rationalized, in a moment at which it could have meant anything else. So he'd taken his damned time about it. No- he hadn't _taken his time_ per se, but he hadn't dispatched with the task with the kind of celerity Han Solo usually attacked a problem with.

He couldn't say "I love you," when he just as easily might have said, 'I'm worried,' or 'I want you,' or 'don't cry,' 'I'm impressed,' or 'thank you for saving my life.' And yet that is just what had happened and Han was never going to let himself live this down. It could have meant anything in the moment when he said it.

She had been shot; and Imperial blaster had gotten her in the arm. Leia had assured him that it wasn't 'bad' but Han knew better than to underestimate blaster damage. He had panicked in that moment, stopping what he was doing to try and get a handle on just how badly she'd been hurt. And a pair of storm troopers had come out of nowhere, approached him from behind and demanded they surrender. He'd seen her pull her blaster, still in her hand, and just as she was preparing to save his life yet again the words had spilled out of his mouth as though he had no control at all. "I love you," he had told her.

"I know," she had answered him as a sweet smile crossed her pained features. It was an echo of the words he had spoken the first time she had confessed similar sentiment. Han hoped that she had been sincere in her response and not that she had chosen that moment to try and lighten the mood. He had been sure that she'd known, and yet the thought that he had finally managed to get the words out when he might as well have said 'good thing you're here,' maddened him to the edge of reason. He was surprised that she'd taken him seriously.

At first, he hadn't been entirely sure that she had. Things happened very quickly just then. If the first thirty six hours on the forest moon of Endor had been a blur, the following twenty minutes had been no more than a flash. The Ewoks helped them break in to the shield generator. They'd planted their charges and run for cover. By the time their target blew he was already back beside Leia: in the relative safety of some fallen trees. Immediately he had set to tending her wound. She wouldn't have been shot had he not distracted her from laying down cover fire, and she was bleeding something fierce. He had made a joke about taking her shirt off, and she hadn't seemed to want to joke back with him. Her wound had barely been dressed when the cursed Death Star exploded above them. The two of them watched in awe as the golden fires streaked the sky above Endor. Mission accomplished.

And yet, even with the thrill of having done what they'd set out to do, Leia seemed less than pleased. She was almost melancholy at that moment. At first, Han suspected that she was thinking of Alderaan and of all that might have been saved had they reached the first Death Star sooner and of all that will be spared the devastation of this second conveyer of ruin.

But in an instant it occurred to him what was really on her mind: he was sure that she was thinking of Luke. Not that he wasn't, of course, but something in him told him to reassure her in that moment. And she said she knew Luke was all right; that she had a sense of him. And Han had asked her the most difficult question he had ever heard leave his lips. "You love him, don't you?" he had asked. He feared more than anything that Luke might have been the guy that Lando had hypothetically warned him about; the one who wouldn't be afraid to say the words to her that he had found so difficult.

And next had come the glorious revelation that she and Luke were brother and sister. She could love Luke all she wanted, and he could love her right back, and nothing would ever come of it more than a deeper sense of the family they had already built. And she had kissed him while the thought sank in. And he had kissed her once it had crystallized. Had an Ewok not come upon them he might have made love to her then and there. But an Ewok had come upon them and they had been led by the hand back out of the thicket and toward the village.

From then the afternoon had been a strange series of moments moving one into the other. The Ewoks broke out in to celebration. Leia let the Ewok shaman give her something for her pain; she wanted to have a good time, too. There was food and drink. The sun went down. Luke had arrived with the body of Vader (his FATHER?!).

Funeral Pyre. Dancing, Lando, Wedge, more drinks, more food, drumming on captured helmets, Leia dancing with Lando, Leia walking with Luke, Leia dancing with Chewie.

Leia's arm was still bleeding. She'd smile at him every time she danced past, or cast a glance his way while she was congratulating some pilot who had just landed. Leia, ever the diplomat, had an uncanny knack for seeing to the health, welfare, and morale of everyone in the command before seeing to herself. She was never more royal than in these moments. Han would wager that she'd shaken the hand or kissed the cheek of every Alderaanian pilot and gunner who had landed on this rock. When she was hunkered down in a mud hole or a snow bank, chasing Imperials through the underbrush, or holding her own in a gun fight it was easy to forget that Leia had been raised in a royal household; but in these moments with her people she was every bit the princess.

All of Alderaan had loved her; those who remained still did. The Rebellion loved her. And Han Solo loved her. She had been dancing with a small band of Ewoks and a pair of pilots in orange jumpsuits when Luke had snagged her hand and the two of them had walked into the nearby visitor's hut. Han smiled to himself as he made his way from the center of the celebration to the little structure on the village outskirts. Yesterday he had been insane with jealousy at Leia's taking a private moment with Luke, but now that all involved knew that they were brother and sister there was little to no jealousy left to be had.

Han had let them be for a while. It had taken him a moment to put two and two together and add up the facts that, if Luke and Leia were brother and sister, and if Darth Vader was Luke's father (a fact that had come to light when Luke had appeared on the landing pad with Vader 's body in tow) then Luke and Leia might have a lot to talk about. But enough was enough and Han was beginning to feel abandoned. He made his way to the hut where Luke and Leia were and knocked at the doorframe. It was the same hut in which he and Leia had slept the night before and Han felt a little odd at having to knock.

He didn't wait for an answer. Han pushed back the fabric hanging over the circular doorway and let himself in. He noticed his camouflage coat still in the hammock to his far right; they had used it as an extra blanket and he had left Leia asleep under it when he woke in the morning. She and her brother were on the far side of the hut, sitting in front of the fire. Leia was seated on the edge of a small table and Luke knelt on the floor beside her, his hands on her arm and shoulder; both of them had their backs to the door.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything," Han said to the two of them as he moved into the room. Luke looked over at him as soon as he'd come in and smiled. "But you ran off with the only pretty girl at this party," he added, winking at Luke.

"Han," Leia greeted, turning to face him. He felt lucky to have caught the moment that Leia's face lit up at seeing him. He'd sell his soul to a dark Jedi for that face.

"Hold still," Luke insisted before Leia could stand up. As he made his way farther inside and toward the others, Han was able to discern what was going on. Luke was changing the dressing on Leia's arm _again_. The wound hadn't seemed to be causing her any pain during the celebration, but this had to be the tenth time the dressing had needed changed.

"Is your arm still bleeding?" Han asked as he sidled up to sit next to Leia and hugged her around her waist. Leia nodded.

"It's fine," she assured the both of them, "It doesn't bother me."

"Well it bothers me," Luke said back to her as he quickly removed the blood soaked gauze from her wound and replaced it with a clean one from a medpac that was opened under the table. Luke must have brought it from the shuttle he'd commandeered off the Death Star.

"Yeah," Han agreed, "me too."

"I only wish I knew more about this stuff," Luke said, gesturing to the stolen medpac. "I'm sure I could do more than put on a clean dressing if I just knew how any of this stuff worked."

"I'm fine," Leia repeated, "it's nothing. Both of you, really," she shook her head and smiled. "I appreciate your concern," she said to the two of them, looking back and forth between Han and Luke, "but really, it's nothing to worry about."

"You know Leia," Luke said to her as he began to bind the dressing with gauze, "if you could have just sat still for fifteen whole minutes at a stretch, this might have had a chance to clot."

"Leia doesn't sit still," Han joked, elbowing her gently in the ribs. She turned her head and rolled her eyes at him again.

"It was an important day," she defended. "These people have fought for so long and they've all lost so much. Today was such a huge victory for them; for all of us. They deserve a moment's recognition for it."

"Can the diplomacy, princess," Han grumbled at her. "You did your job as well as anybody else did today and you deserve a moment's recess from incessant demands on your time."

"Hey, it's not Leia's fault everybody looks up to her," Luke commented, rolling her sleeve back down carefully over the new bandage.

"Well, I don't care whose fault it is," Han said, rubbing her back with one hand while resting the other on her knee, "As my last official act as the commander of ground forces on the Forest Moon I'm ordering you to medical as soon as we're back in space."

"That won't be necessary," Leia insisted. "I'm fine." Han glowered at her. He usually loved it when she was being difficult, but the thought that she might be endangering her health was enough to make him a little bit annoyed.

"It's still an order," Han reminded her. She may outrank him in the grand scheme of the Rebel Alliance, but this was still his theater of command. Had she not been bleeding from a blaster wound he might have even enjoyed giving her an order; he doubted he'd ever have the chance to do so again.

"Whatever you say, General," a clearly bemused Leia said back to him. She swung her now fully-bandaged left arm around until her fingers found his jawbone.

"I like that," Han whispered fiendishly in reply. It wasn't that he was so much meaning to flirt with her just then, but sometimes she made it impossible not to.

"Do you?" she flirted back under her breath. Leia eased his face toward hers and Han was delighted to discover presently that she was kissing him. It had been sixteen hours since she had kissed him last and he was more than happy to let himself enjoy her mouth to its fullest extent.

"Hey, you two," Luke called out, "would you get a room or something?" Leia let go of the kiss and sat back, crossing her arms over her chest. Han had to admit that he had momentarily forgotten there was another person in the hut with them. He was a little bit glad that Luke had spoken up when he did.

"We have one," Leia said to her brother, looking down at where he had seated himself on the floor to pack up the boosted medpac. "You're in it," she added, gesturing with her head toward the equipment that she and Han had left stacked between the fireplace and the hammock. Luke's face was red when he turned back to Han and Leia after having followed her eyes to their shared personal affects.

"I should get going," an embarrassed-sounding Luke said to them as scrambled to his feet. What… was he scared they were going to abandon themselves to passion right then? Leia would certainly have remembered that they had an audience. And with her injury on top of that, the kiss was likely intended to be nothing more than a kiss. However, if Luke wanted to leave and Leia was feeling flirty….

"Get some sleep, kid," Han said to him, standing as well to shake the younger man's hand.

"That's advice we all could take," Leia agreed, standing as well and moving to hug her brother.

She lurched forward in an unnatural stagger and collapsed into Luke's arms.

"Leia!" Han shouted her name as Luke gently lowered her now unconscious body to the floor. Han moved to cradle her head in his hands as a panicked Luke looked up at him.

"Do you…?" Luke hesitantly began.

"I think she's lost too much blood," Han answered his question before he had the chance to finish. Han scooped the princess up into his arms and stood up again. "We're taking her to medical now," he insisted, "Come on; let's get her to the _Falcon_."

"My shuttle's closer," Luke reminded him as the two of them rushed from the hut and down the ramp onto the forest floor.

"We'll take her in your shuttle, then," Han agreed, nearly breaking into a run as they passed beneath the central structures of Bright Tree Village.

"I put down in the meadow just on the far side of those trees," Luke said, pointing at a thicket of shorter trees just in front of them and to the right. "Go on ahead," he added, "I'll meet you there. I'm going to get Chewie or Lando."

"The hell do we need them for?" Han asked, not slowing his pace in the least.

"Imperial shuttles weren't designed to be flown by a single pilot except in the case of an emergency," Luke replied.

"The hell do you think this is?" Han retorted, "A tea party?"

"Getting down here was a real pain," Luke explained, "And there's less margin for error when you're landing on a ship than there is when you've got a whole planet's breadth. I'd rather have a co-pilot."

"What am I?" Han asked, stopping his forward progress, "chopped liver?"

"I thought you'd want to stay with Leia," Luke said back to him. Han shook his head. Of course Luke was right. A herd of charging bull Banthas couldn't make him leave her side at the moment.

"Right," Han agreed, "go. I'll meet you at the shuttle." He carried the still unconscious Leia through the sparse undergrowth beneath the village and through the much thicker vegetation beyond. The shuttle was right where Luke said it would be, in a meadow that Han had to believe would be forever pock-marked by the number of small craft that had chosen to land there. Calrissian had landed the much larger _Falcon_ on the pad near the former shield generator and Han was silently very grateful that Luke's heisted shuttle had been brought in this close to the village.

The door was open and the ramp was down and Han wasted no time in getting Leia aboard and laying her down on one of the upholstered benches in the crew compartment. The artificial white light of the shuttle suddenly allowed him to see what the red gold firelight had hidden from him. Her skin was ghastly pale and her lips had taken on a bluish tinge that was altogether disquieting. And she was very cold; a few minutes away from the fire had removed whatever artificial warmth her body had retained earlier. Han squeezed her chilly fingers and looked around for a blanket to put over her. Imperial shuttles were not designed as bastions of comfort and Han was about to curse them aloud when Luke dashed up the ramp and into the shuttle with Lando and Chewie in tow.

"What happened?" Lando asked as Luke pulled the switches to raise the ramp and shut the doors.

"She fainted," Luke answered.

"She got shot," Han reminded the group.

"What!?" Lando asked. Obviously Leia had neglected to tell him about that.

"There was a firefight down here too, you know?" Han sniped at his friend. "Some Imperial got a piece of her," he explained. "She said it wasn't bad, but it's been bleeding for sixteen hours."

"Come on," Luke urged Lando and Chewbacca. "The sooner we dock at headquarters the better."

"Headquarters?" Han asked, standing to face the other men. "Why aren't we docking with _Redemption_?" The medical frigate had been his intended destination; not that the facilities aboard _Home One_ were lacking in any way, but there was a hospital ship and they might as well use it.

"_Redemption _didn't make it through the battle, Han," Lando told him quietly, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Oh," was all that Han could say. He felt his eyes growing wider. He felt the knot that had been in his stomach since Leia had been shot beginning to turn somersaults around his gut. He had known, of course, that there had been a battle in space, but it hadn't occurred to him to wonder about losses. Everyone who had come down to the Forest Moon had been in such high spirits…. How much else had they lost? Han looked down at Leia again and then back at Lando. "Let's get going," he said. Lando squeezed his shoulder in a brief gesture of support and then headed toward the cockpit.

The takeoff was swift, but smooth, and it seemed like no time at all had passed before they were docking with _Home One_. Han had spent the entirety of the short voyage pacing back and forth along the length of the crew compartment. His first instinct had been to sit with Leia and hold her hand, but he had found himself presently going quite mad with the stillness and had begun pacing; his eyes never leaving her face, but his body at least able to work out some of the unsettling adrenaline that he was practically drowning in. The cursing under his breath got louder and louder with each passing minute as he waited for her to wake up. He watched the steady rise and fall of her chest, assured that she was breathing and alive. But that one tiny fact offered him little comfort under the circumstances. He tried to imagine her sleeping there peacefully but the fear in his gut wouldn't let him have that fantasy for even a full second.

"Coming in to HF-201," Luke's voice sounded over the intercom. "We'll be there in a minute," he added, "they're waiting for us." Han balled his hands into fists and seated himself on the bench next to Leia's head and waited for the shuttle to land. It was an unusually quick procedure. Han wasn't sure, but if he had to guess he would have said that Luke had called ahead and told someone in command that the injured princess was aboard. That would be the only situation, Han figured, that would prompt the Mon Calamari to allow an unfamiliar Imperial shuttle to land so unceremoniously in the hangar bay of their headquarters frigate.

The sight that met his eyes when the door to the craft was opened removed any doubt that he had guessed correctly. Han saw, as two emdee droids and a human medic rushed inside to tend to Leia, that the hangar bay was all but completely full up with people. Word must have gotten out that they were bringing the princess. The medic dashed back out of the shuttle and appeared again with a repulsorlift powered hospital gurney. He went to move Leia off of the bench and onto the stretcher, but he seemed to have second thoughts about it when he noticed the scrutiny that Han was regarding him with. The medic moved aside and allowed Han to lift Leia onto the narrow bed and cover her with a blanket from a shelf beneath the mattress.

The droids moved into place beside the gurney and Han followed them as they exited the shuttle into the hangar bay. They were soon joined by Luke, Lando, and Chewie, all of whom seemed to agree with Han that the crowd in here was a little bit unsettling, but touching nonetheless. If the Alliance had adored the princess Leia before; they practically worshiped her now, having learned that she had been wounded in battle. From the hangar bay to the medical suite the halls of _Home One_ were lined with onlookers, well-wishers, and people with tears in their eyes.

Han wanted to shoot at them. It was bad enough that Leia was injured, that she'd been out for twenty minutes without so much as a flutter from an eyelash; but the weepy and reverent faces of these people depressed him. As they turned down the final corridor that would get them into the medical suite, Han turned to Lando and frowned.

"It's like they're here for a funeral," he grumbled.

"Leia's going to be fine, Han," Lando said plainly, as though he had sensed what his friend needed to hear. Han had never been a big fan of droids to begin with, and the two that were tending to Leia at the moment were infuriating him with their silence. Could one of them not have said something like that… something that might ease his mind under the circumstances.

"You know, I did what you told me to," Han said quietly to Lando as they followed the medical droids into the suite. A third droid stepped into their path and stopped their forward progress.

"Wait here," the droid said to them before going back to whatever it had been doing before they arrived. Han felt his jaw tense at the instruction; these medical droids may be all right with the technical stuff, but their bedside manner left something to be desired.

"You told her?" Lando asked quietly, getting back to the conversation at hand. Han nodded.

"Yeah," he said.

"Well, what'd she say?" a grinning Lando asked in reply.

"She said, 'I know'," Han answered, shrugging his shoulders and moving to try and see through a window into the room where the droids had taken Leia.

"Good for her," Lando said back.

"Yeah, well," Han added, "I shouldn't have said it when I did."

"Why not?" Lando asked him.

"Because," Han answered, standing on tip toes to try and see over the shoulder of the medic who was blocking his view. "Because I told her less than thirty seconds after she'd been shot: that's why," he confessed. "She's laying there in pain and I see her pull her blaster on a pair of storm troopers who'd come up behind me and right as she's getting ready to save my worthless hide yet again: it just comes out."

"I doubt it bothered her," Lando encouraged.

"The hell are they doing in there?" Han practically shouted to no one in particular.

"Han," Lando addressed him firmly, taking him by the arms. "You're not helping." Han squared his jaw and looked Lando in the eye.

"You're right," he agreed. "You're right: I'm not helping." He turned on his heel and charged toward the exit. Luke and Chewie, who had been standing quietly just inside the door, moved to block his path.

"Han," Luke said to him quietly as Chewie let out a groan of worry. "We're all upset," he said, "but storming out of here isn't going to solve anything. Leia's going to wake up and ask me where you are and I don't want to have to tell her I don't know." Han shook his head. He was deflated. "I know you love her, Han," Luke added, "we all do."

Han's breath caught in his throat. Had Leia said something to her brother about their conversation outside of the bunker? Or was Luke just presuming based on available evidence? "Yeah," Han replied, nodding his head as he clapped the younger man on the shoulder. Chewie made a sound and lifted his hand, pointing with his fingers toward the door to the little room where the droids had taken Leia. The doors were coming open and the human medic followed one of the droids out of the room.

"Her blood pressure dropped dangerously low," the medic explained. "But it's nothing too serious," he assured them. "We've given her fluids and we're repairing the wound in her arm. She should be fine by morning."

"How come she hasn't woken up?" Han asked, looking past the medic and through the open door at Leia. Her cheeks had pinked up substantially and her lips looked their normal color, but she still hadn't moved a muscle and it was more than a little worrisome for Han.

"Likely from exhaustion," the medic answered him without missing a beat. Han shrugged his shoulders; that was a reasonable answer. After all, they had been up for going on thirty hours and it had been a rather eventful day at that. He nodded once to the medic and then took a step past him toward the doors to Leia's room. "Not yet, General Solo," the medic instructed him, stepping between Han and his intended destination. "Someone will tell you when you may go in."

"Like hell," he said back. Han was a good head taller than the medic was, and had fifty pounds on the little man if he had five. That, combined with his shiny new rank, meant that he was not going to sit still and let this imp keep him from Leia. "I am going in there now," he informed the smaller man, looking him squarely in the eye from above. "If you think for one second that you would like to stop me," he continued, "then I suggest that you get on the com right now to Admiral Ackbar and to Mon Mothma and see what regiment they're willing to send to get me to leave. Because nothing short of a regiment is keeping me out of that room for even a moment longer: capeesh?" The medic nodded and ducked out of Solo's way. Han turned and nodded his head toward where Luke, Lando, and Chewie were gathered. If they wanted to follow him, now was their chance. "You all coming?" he asked as he took another step toward the still open doors.

The others nodded and moved to follow him. Han overheard the undersized medic beginning to say something and he tossed the little man his most angry glower. Chewie then followed suit with a full bore growl as he and the others followed Han's lead. The four of them congregated around the still sleeping Leia: Luke and Han each taking hold of one of her hands with Chewie and Lando standing just beyond them. "I guess we just wait now," Luke offered as the doors finally slid shut behind them. There was still an emdee droid in the corner doing some indiscernible thing or another and several machines and screen readouts making blips or tweetering noises. Han silently cursed himself for never bothering to learn what any of that stuff was. She looked like hell. There were tubes hooked up to her this way and that and a giant cuff around her arm that Han guessed was a portable bacta treatment. He hated the idea that there was nothing he could do, but in that moment realized that he had no choice but to accept that.

"Yeah," he said back to Luke, squeezing Leia's hand gently and looking around at the gauges and tubes attached to her. "I guess we do."


	4. Evening: Rebel Headquarters

Han was cursing under his breath as he made his way along the corridors aboard _Home One_. The last thing he remembered he was in the medical suite with Leia. Finding himself in his own quarters this morning, he was quite miffed as to how he might have gotten there. He was that much more perturbed when he discovered what time it was; he had slept through the entire morning and through a good portion of the afternoon. Ship's time had been 1940 when they had arrived aboard the headquarters frigate even though it had been barely dawn where they had left. Han was more than a little annoyed that he had lost so much time and could only wonder how Leia had fared in the more than eighteen hours he had been asleep.

He'd then immediately gone back to medical to look in on Leia, only to run into Luke on his way there, who had explained that Chewie had carried him back to his quarters after he'd fallen asleep on a bench in Leia's room. Han rolled his eyes at the thought of that and could only hope sincerely that no one had seen that happen. He'd gone on to the medical suite only to be told that the princess Leia had been released earlier in the day and had been taken back to her quarters by General Calrissian.

Now he had to fight the urge to break in to a flat run as he headed toward her suite. What might have been the most annoying thing about the day's brief ordeal was that Leia's rooms were not so far from his own, but the unnecessary trip to the medical suite had caused him to run from one end of the blasted ship to the other twice in succession when all he wanted to do was to see Leia. When he finally reached her door, he thought twice about letting himself in; he knew that he could unlock her door, she had given him the key code when they had arrived at the fleet back at Sullust. She was supposed to be resting, and he wondered which would disturb her less: ringing the chime or just coming inside.

He didn't have time to decide as the door slid open without any prompting from him. "Come in, Han," Leia called to him from the couch on the far side of the sitting room. She was smiling at him as he came through the door and Han could feel his heart getting lighter with each passing moment that smile was pointed in his direction. He couldn't help but smile back at her.

Leia looked healthy. She was curled up in the corner of the couch wearing a billowy white dress that reminded him of the one she'd had on the day they met. Her hair was bound back in a single braid which was draped over her shoulder. The couch and end table were peppered with datapads and Leia had another one in her hand.

"You're supposed to be resting," he gently chided her, crossing to kiss the top of her head. He cleared a spot on the sofa beside her and took a seat, his arm draped across the back of the couch behind her.

"I've been resting," she assured him, "I just wanted to look these things over," she added, placing a hand on his knee.

"What are you reading?" he asked. Somehow he doubted it was anything pleasant. She'd seemed far too relieved to see him.

"Casualty reports," she replied, handing him the datapad that she'd been examining when he arrived. Han didn't bother to look at it. Han moved his arm from the back of the couch to Leia's shoulder and pulled her into an embrace. Leia melted willingly into his arms and moved herself closer to him until she was nearly in his lap. "A hundred and seventy-six pilots, Han," she said to him, shaking her head as her hands slid around his waist. "And we lost _Redemption_ and _Liberty_, two other Mon Cal cruisers…"

"Shhh," Han interrupted her, squeezing her shoulders tighter and beginning to rock her slowly from side to side. "I know," he told her. "But it doesn't matter," he added. Leia sat back and looked him in the eye.

"Doesn't matter?" she asked, frowning at him incredulously. "How can you say that? More than a third of our pilots were killed or injured. We've lost ship after ship and…" Han inhaled sharply and took her hands in his.

"I didn't mean that," he retracted. "I only meant that's not what's important right now." Leia shook her head. "What's important right now," he stressed, sure to look directly into her moist brown eyes, "is that you're okay, and that we're together, and that we brought down that shield and Lando's people got to the Death Star." He put his arms around her again, kissing her forehead before he continued, "We'll let everything else be important tomorrow." Leia nodded, yawning quietly as she buried her face in his chest.

"Mon Mothma wants me to address a memorial; day after tomorrow, they haven't decided where." She told him.

"Of course she does," Han replied, stroking her hair. "You're a hero, you know? Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan, member of the Imperial Senate, leader of the Rebel Alliance, wounded combat veteran; you've got every credential a man could look up to."

"Wounded in combat…" Leia sighed and looked up at him. "It was barely a scratch," she asserted, "I can't believe I fainted."

"Believe it, princess," Han said back as he smiled down at her. "You are not as invincible as you would like to be," he joked. "If you lose enough blood you will pass out, just like rest of us mere mortals."

"Doesn't make it any less embarrassing," she asserted.

"Not as embarrassing as being carried to your quarters by a Wookiee," Han countered.

"No," Leia exhorted, leaning back and trying visibly to stifle her laughter. Han nodded, frowning. "Chewie…" she began.

"I fell asleep," he explained. "Apparently my snoring was upsetting to the medical droids." Leia leaned up and kissed him on his chin.

"You'd have spent the whole night with me," she contended, "no matter how uncomfortable you were."

"I'd spend every night with you," he answered, kissing her forehead again for emphasis, "and I don't care about being uncomfortable. You've been aboard my ship; you should know that." Leia chuckled softly.

"I love you," she sighed, leaning into his chest again.

"I love you too, Leia," he said back to her. And it occurred to him how easy that had been. For all of the days that he had fought and wondered and nagged at himself about just how to go about telling her that he was in love with her he had never imagined saying those words would be so easy- so natural. Han smiled at himself. Suddenly emboldened, he continued to speak. "I spent every day since we got away from Jabba trying to figure out how to say that to you," he shared. "I was so afraid that I'd either never get the nerve up at all or that I'd only manage to say it in such a way that made me seem like an idiot."

"You know it doesn't matter to me how you said it," she said to him, "only that it's true."

"Yeah, well it matters to me," he answered back. "I'm still kicking myself that the first time you heard me tell you how I feel about you our lives were in danger and you were in the process of saving my fool neck again."

"I happen to like your neck," Leia said back to him, lifting her face to kiss him just beneath where his ear met his jaw and again right above his collar. Han heard his own throaty sigh as he tilted his head to allow her an easier time getting at his neck.

"I happen to like that you like my neck," he said back to her. "But it shouldn't have taken getting shot at for me to be able to say 'I love you'."

"You said it again just now," she reminded him.

"I did," he agreed. "And it was easy," he added.

"Telling the truth usually is," she said. Han chuckled.

"Apparently not for us scoundrels," he half-joked in reply.

"Well," she mused back at him, "maybe it's easier for Generals." She ceased her attentions to his neck and sat up straight again, looking at him curiously.

"That must be it," he chuckled in agreement.

"Must be," she repeated.

"So now that I'm a General," he began, following her line of thinking, "Do you think that I'll be able to tell the truth with impunity?" he asked.

"I suppose not without some difficulty," her most diplomatic sounding voice answered him. Leia smiled up at him and ran her fingers through his unruly hair. It was only then that it occurred to Han how long it had been since he'd had a shower. He felt suddenly very scruffy looking. At least it had occurred to him this morning to brush his teeth.

"So I can tell you that I love you with relative ease from here on out?" he asked rhetorically.

"I'd like to hope so," Leia answered him. Han sighed.

"Me too," he added, taking her hands again. "You should leave these casualty reports alone," he instructed her; glowering at the pile of datapads Leia had surrounded herself with.

"We're off planet now, General," she said back to him. "You can't give me orders any more. Up here," she added, "I outrank you." Han turned his glower from the mess on the sofa to Leia's smirk.

"All right, Princess," he grumbled. He could play this game too. "As a concerned subordinate I would like to formally request that you put these things away until tomorrow," he said.

"Can you get that to me in writing, General?" she asked him, sounding as official as she could without losing the mischievous glint from her eyes. "I'll review your request, take it to committee, consider their recommendation, and have an answer for you in three days time." Leia smirked at him.

"That, your highness," he replied, wrapping his arms around her waist. He picked her up and flipped her over, settling her on her back with her head at the opposite end of the couch from where she had been sitting. Han perched himself on top of her, pinning her arms to the cushions as he grinned down at her. "Would be entirely counterproductive," he finished his thought.

"Han," Leia started, struggling mildly to get up.

"No," he cut her off. "I mean it, Leia," he said plainly, "you cannot take care of everyone in the galaxy if you won't take care of yourself."

"I'm fine," she assured him, freeing her hands to stroke his brow.

"I'm sure you are," he allowed. Han lowered his face to hers and kissed her slowly. He felt Leia's hands in his hair and her knee rubbing against the outside of his thigh, inciting reactions in him that he wouldn't normally have associated with a conversation about Leia's neglecting her own well being. Just as the kiss broke, Han felt his stomach growl; loudly enough for Leia to have heard it. She chuckled softly and looked him in the eye, her hands still on the back of his head.

"How long since you've eaten?" She asked him, her lip quirking and her eyebrows raised. Han thought for a second. He wasn't entirely sure.

"A while," he answered.

"A while?" Leia repeated, shaking her head. "And you mean to lecture me about not taking care of myself?" she added. Han frowned playfully at her.

"I was worrying about you," he explained. "I haven't taken the time out to eat, or to shower, or even to change my socks." Leia returned his frown.

"That was romantic," she told him, "right up until the part about the dirty socks." Han laughed loudly at that and sat up, letting her up as well.

"Don't worry, Princess," he teased, "I'd have kept my boots on in order to keep from offending your delicate sensibilities."

"Oh, thanks," she jeered in reply as she sat up and elbowed him in the ribs.

"Anything for the one I love," he answered back, his voice as filled with sarcasm as he could manage.

"Anything?" Leia asked, a hint of mischief creeping into her voice. Han was something between excited and scared by the prospect of what she might say should he answer in the affirmative. He enjoyed the almost naughty gleam in her eyes and on top of that he was pretty sure that he could trust her not to turn 'anything' into something he might find unpleasant.

"Anything at all," he agreed. Han leaned toward her and waggled his eyebrows. Leia grinned and stood up, taking his hand and pulling him to his feet as well. She led him across her sitting room and through the open door into her bedroom. Han could feel an involuntary smile creeping onto his face as they walked toward her bed. He had very fond memories of that mattress and those sheets and he had a distinct feeling that he was about to make some new ones. Leia stopped at the foot of the bed and took him by the shoulders, pushing him down to sit on the mattress. "Your wish is my command, Princess," Han flirted, bringing his hands to rest on her hips.

"Get out of those filthy clothes," she instructed him. Han felt his eyes widen as he gulped in response to that. Leia was normally subtle, understated, almost shy about such things. He had never before been ordered to undress. Han was pretty sure he liked this.

"Yes ma'am," he growled in reply. Leia rolled her eyes and stepped away from him.

"That's not what I meant," she assured him. Apparently he had been wrong about her intentions… but why else would she have told him to take his clothes off?

"Huh?" escaped his lips as he sat up straighter, trying to figure out just what it was she was thinking.

"You can use my shower," Leia told him. "I'll have Threepio bring you clean clothes. And then I'll send him out for dinner."

"Steak?" Han asked. He hadn't been thinking about food at all until that moment, but when she had said the word 'dinner' somehow a vision of a giant nerf steak jumped into his brain and took over. Sex could wait; he was hungry.

"Anything for the one I love," she mused back at him. "You know where the clean towels are," she added as she left him alone in the bedroom. Han watched as she walked away and the door shut behind her. He stood up and tore his dirty vest and shirt from his body. Suddenly, he was happier than he thought he'd ever be that Leia had put off being romantic until later. His own reflection in the mirror in her refresher was enough to tell him that he shouldn't have been allowed to get near her. He reached into her linen cabinet and pulled out a clean white towel, placing on the basin where he'd be able to reach it from the shower.

The refresher in Leia's stateroom was the largest he had ever seen aboard a starship; it had a water shower that doubled as a sonic shower as well as a sanisteam and a ripple bath so large that it comfortably accommodated two people at once (a fact which he had become aware of recently and with much glee in learning). Everything Leia touched, even a refresher, somehow became first class.

He had no idea how the madness that had once been his life had come around to this point. Had someone told Han Solo even five years ago that he would be happily and healthily in love with an Alderaanian princess who was just as in love with him: he'd have asked for a sip of whatever it was they were drinking. Truth be told, if someone had described Leia to him in abstract five years ago he'd have laughed at the thought of such a woman. How many princesses were there in the galaxy who could handle a blaster with precision one minute and greet her subjects with grace and poise the next? Leia Organa was one of a kind. Han had no idea what he was doing with a woman of that caliber. But he also knew that as much as he didn't deserve her, he couldn't rightly think of anyone who did and so he was happy enough to keep her for himself.

And that was what she wanted, too. He found it hard to believe: just how blessed he was to have a woman like Princess Leia Organa in love with him. Han could count on one hand the number of times he had been so in love with a woman that he'd been able to come right out and say it. And with Leia it was easy to say. As nervous as Lando had made him about saying the words in the first place, now it felt good to say. And it felt even better to see her face when she heard him say it. He wondered if he looked as happy when he heard the same words from her.

He'd never have a problem saying those words again; he was sure. As he turned on the hot water he delighted at the thought of how much he was going to enjoy the rest of this evening. And the rest of his life….

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

In case I failed to point this out (and I'm almost sure that I did fail to point this out) I have posted a four chapter, 15,000-ish word story all in one night. And you read it. Thank you for that. Now, if I could ask you for just a few more minutes of your time I'd love to know if you liked it. And if you didn't like it, I'd even love to know that, as long as you're willing to tell me why you didn't like it. Thanks for being here and for even considering clicking that little reiew button.

-MQ


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